


Gold on her head, and gold on her feet...

by Talik_Sanis



Series: ML Secret Valentines Exchange [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Breeding, Crack, Desperation, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, God Forgive Me For What I Write For My Friends, Humor, ML Valentine Exchange, Miraculous Side Effects, Piss kink, Plagg Is So Done (Miraculous Ladybug), Plagg is Me Ironically, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pregnant Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Pregnant Sex, Protective Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Protective Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Shameless Smut, Watersports, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29380812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talik_Sanis/pseuds/Talik_Sanis
Summary: A pregnant Ladybug makes her surprising debut, much to her cat-husband's horror. His Lady can't put both herself and their son in danger like that!Is there anything that Ladybug can do to assuage her mortified Kitty's raging instincts?*Miraculous Valentines' Exchange* (Don't blame me for this, please.)
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, marichat - Relationship
Series: ML Secret Valentines Exchange [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154642
Comments: 7
Kudos: 28
Collections: ML Secret Valentine 2021





	Gold on her head, and gold on her feet...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katieykat513](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katieykat513/gifts).



> Please note the tags: kink!
> 
> This story is a sequel to the first part of my gift to a friend: the original "Marichat car sex" piece is the first in this series. 
> 
> Also, if this is the first time that you've read something that I've produced: This is not me! All the kink is for a friend. You may want to ... head off and read [A Delicate Balance of Flavours](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21043319) or [Under His Lips](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142417). Those are better examples of "my" kind of story.
> 
> This one is my sincere attempt to write a gift that matches a very good fandom friend's tastes. 
> 
> Unless you're here for the kink. In that case: enjoy it – I hope – alongside her. And don't take this as an accurate guide to real-world sexual activities.

Luka was supposed to use the Ladybug miraculous.

It was a simple plan to replace Ladybug temporarily while Marinette was pregnant, but even the combined force of her two husbands and her wife was unable to move her at first.

Every well-reasoned argument had been rebutted – the three of them would have said “been ignored” - and every plea dismissed.

The only contention that had been able to pierce Marinette's steadfast commitment to wielding the Ladybug miraculous and fulfilling her duty to Paris and her citizenry had been the well-articulated point developed in exacting and precise detail by her wife regarding the manifold benefits of permitting Luka to employ the miraculous of creation in her stead.

_Ladybug Luka and Chat Noir frotting on top of the Eiffel tower. I'll take video footage._

Marinette could not turn over her earrings quickly enough.

That was their joke, of course, and a nice side-benefit.

Really, Adrien, Luka, and Kagami alike had huddled around her and simply said that they would rather die than see anything happen to their son, so please, Melody/My Lady/Mari-Hime, let us take care of him like you take care of us.

Manipulative monsters, the lot of them.

It had worked for a few weeks, but earlier today, Luka had dove in front of her when they got caught up in an akuma attack; a handful of cracked ribs had taken him out of the fight before he'd even had a chance to transform, leading him to turn over the earrings, pleading that she stay safe for all their sakes.

The revelation of her pregnancy, and the associated photographs that were taken during the quick fight, finally helped to displace the story that had been dominating super-hero media for the past few weeks – the one that was always accompanied by several candid shots of Luka-Bug and Chat Noir dry humping on a rooftop.

It led to other, unexpected results, though.

Given his demeanour, Luka was easy to placate, convinced to head to his scheduled recording session after Marinette had caught up with him on the street and returned her Miraculous.

Kagami, on a trip to Japan to visit her mother, was satisfied with a quick email, sent from Marinette's cell phone on the walk home; the assurance that everything was fine was enough for the fencing prodigy. Sometimes, Marinette felt that her wife had a little bit too much confidence in her.

But _Chat_...

His breath is hot and moist against the tender flesh of her belly, cheek rubbing smooth and easy circles across her bellybutton, punctuated by butterfly kisses that send tingles through her gut. The wall of their apartment bedroom is rough and cool against her back, but she needs the support to keep herself from melting.

Occasionally, he looks up at her with those molten green sclera and he's all want, all need, and all giving, melting for her even as her legs turn to mush as he worships her belly, leaving her supported by nothing but her desire to be strong for him.

Nonsense syllables burst and tumble from his mouth as those leather gloves, tipped with dangerously-gentle claws, trail over her sides and rear, clutching her to him while she strokes his hair, cooing just like she will for Hugo when he needs soothing.

Tender, reverent kisses run circles along her growing baby bump, and she hates herself just a little bit because this should be a beautiful moment of intimacy and connection, all for him, and she wants it to be, but ...

But she's horny as _fuck_!

He's on his knees and has been planting his lips on her bare stomach, self-comforting purr sending lancing shudders and shards of need right into the crux of her thighs – the spot that he is so not touching and it's driving her fucking _insane_!

“Milady,” he whimpers, hands to her ass to clutch her to him without being in any way sexual.

“Chat, I'm fine. It's okay, Kitty,” she soothes, easing some of the frantic tension from his brow by before cupping his jaw to bring him away.

“Please, never do that again.” The pleading mumble, not quite like a child, but flooded with fear, is a bulldozer-load of earth, filling that massive pit of arousal. “You- you can't put yourselves at risk like that.”

“I know that you hate seeing us in danger, Adrien, but we both have our responsibilities to Paris.”

Lips tickle the edges of her undulating abs as he feathers kisses to her sternum, just under the edge of her bra. “I- it's...”

As if sensing the strain in her quivering legs, the heat that's sapping her strength just as much as the tenderness and the regret for hurting her kitty, he lets her guide him to the bed, curling up with his head in her lap again.

There's something about the way that he's looking at her, eyes flitting about, wary, the tension of his clawed fingers as they dig into his palms, the iron inflexibility of his spine. He grits his teeth as if he's straining in the gym.

“Chat, what's wrong?” It's more than the fear – a desperation that's still thick as he breathes deep of the scent of her at the crux of her thighs, chest swelling, holding, and falling again.

“It's nothing,” he assures with a grimace that he can't hide from her, his soft hair tickling her palm as he butts his head against her hand to try to coax her to continue petting him.

No such luck, kitty. Ladybug doesn't let her partner suffer in silence.

“Adrien, you don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable, but- but I'd like to be able to help you if I can. Is it about- about what nearly happened? We can try to come up with a new plan for the miraculous or another failsafe.”

“Not... exactly. It's more- uh.” Twisting onto his stomach, he presses his face to her lap, breathes, and holy fuck does she want him to tear her pants right off and delve in that extra inch.

Pussy takes a distant, distant second place to kitty, though.  
  
“Whatever it is, Chat, you can tell me,” she assures, booping his nose in mock playfulness. “You and me against the world, right?”

“It- it's miraculous side-effects,” he grumbles like a grumpy cat.

“Cat instincts? Like that time with the catnip?”

“Uh-” A half-manic chortle races through his body while he strains, back rising up from the bed in something like the kind of serpentine, boneless shudder he makes when either she or Luka suck him off, holding him just at the edge of cumming. “Pretty much exactly like that.”

Oh. Pussy and kitty were on the verge of aligning their interests, if that's the case.

“Were you exposed to 'nip when we were fighting that akuma?” she asks, working a hand between them to test the heat of his exposed neck. Nothing unusual there. His skin wasn't clammy or flushed, and the temperature seemed normal.

“It's ... not that,” he grits out, hands flexing, claws fiddling with the air.

“Then what?”  
  
“It's, uh, kind of a cat... territorial thing, I think.”

“Territorial?” Her brow quirks as she glances around the familiar room that still, even with her human nose, smells like them – like home. Leather and musk are hot in her nose. “Like... you don't feel like the apartment is yours?”  
  
“No! No. It's- I was just so afraid that I was going to lose you.”

“Do you want to cuddle for a while?” she offers, more than happy to accommodate kitty if he wants some naked cuddles. “Drop your transformation and we can climb into bed and just snuggle.”  
  
“It's- I mean, that sounds nice and all, but I...”

“Chat, come _on_.”

“I- I just, I mean...”

Fuck. She's too horny and exhausted for this.

“Chat, just _tell_ -”

“I want to _pee_ on you!” he screams into her lap, flaming blush visible even under his mop of blond hair.

... what?

“What- what do you mean?”  
  
Because there are so many ambiguities in the assertion that your cat husband wanted to pee on you.

Too many possibilities.

It could mean anything really.

Like does he mean on her fa-

_Nope. Not thinking that!_

Warm, spiked butterflies dance in her gut while he nuzzles and kisses at her thighs like a puppy trying to earn back her affections, whining in half-fear, and then answers.

“I- I think that it's because cats scent-mark their territory. I just... I want- I just need to know that you're safe and- and _mine_.”

Oh, kitty....

“I'm always yours, Chaton,” she assures with Ladybug conviction, steel and fire and flirty confidence, her hand to her heart – beating in her Kitty's chest. ”Forever.”

“I know that.” His head quirks, assuring her. “My brain knows that, but my- my cat instincts are just screaming weird... sick stuff. I'm sorry,” he whines as if he is... genuinely terrified by her prospective reaction – like he feels that she might...

Never.

Cupping his cheeks, she coaxes him to roll to over slowly.

“Chat, nothing you want could ever be sick, and nothing you ever did could make me want to be with you any less. You're too precious and good to want, let alone do, anything really ugly.” Of course he wouldn't; there was simply _nothing_ ugly about her Kitty.

“But it's so...”

“So nothing, Kitty," she assures, brushing away the little wrinkles of anxiety and trepidation that scrunch up his cheeks with slow rolls of her thumbs. “It's just your cat instincts, and it's not like I've never been peed on by all those babies I used to sit for when I was younger.”

“I- what?”

“So, do you want to do this in the bathroom? Maybe the tub?” That seemed the most reasonable place. Once her kitty got it out of his system, they could shower, and if the whole thing wasn't a _really_ horrible turnoff – however bad it was sure to be - maybe more. That would address the lingering and... strangely _more_ pressing horniness. _What the fuck was that about, anyways, body?_

Was there room in the shower for-

“What?!” His eyes are nearly frantic, and he's dug his claws into the magical leather-spandex of his thighs.

She blinks. “You want to work out your cat-instincts, right?”

“But it's ... it's so weird and- and si-”  
  
“Don't even think about finishing that sentence, Adrien!” Marinette scolds, bopping him on the nose in reprimand. “You're _not_ sick. You're not _weird_. You're a beautiful, handsome, loving kitty who deserves the world.”

She stops there because any more than that and Adrien's praise kink would probably have him finishing right there in her lap as he stares up at her, just starting to tear up. The crotch of his costume bulges visibly and she swallows at the familiar weight of it.

He's on his feet, scooping her up into his arms like a precious Ming vase and cradling her gentle as they make their way to the bathroom.

It takes only a few moments for them to strip her down to her panties, all teasing forgone because her kitty is suffering and needs her to comfort him. That's the only reason, of course, for her eagerness. The sooner they let him- let him... _pee_ on her – she shivers... in disgust as she gets on her knees in the shower the sooner this will all be over.

To soothe him and spur him forward, she grabs his hips and nuzzles up to his crotch, planting a kiss to the twitching bulge that she plays with until she's pinned him to the wall, and he's trembling against it for support to keep himself standing.

Turnabout is fair play...

His suit now pooled around his ankles, he's standing before her, semi-hard cock hot and full in her hands as she strokes his balls, stirring him up for something that should disgust her but doesn't because – because he wants it. It – it's not like she wants it, though. Just because she's clenching sticky thighs together and can't take her eyes away from that thick, blood-red tip and the urethra that's dribbling-slick with precum doesn't mean that she _wants_ it – no matter how much she shivers as heat churns and coils in her belly.

“Are you really sure?

“Come on, kitty,” she urges, trembling at the way he clenches his eyes shut and shakes his head, trying to be good and keep her safe from that ugly cat-like longing. Her poor kitty is hurting, so bursting full that he's shaking with need – in pain for her.

“It- it's filthy.” He means it, but the objection is half-hearted.

“It's okay, Chat. You can let go,” she soothes, bringing his cock forward to press a gentle, suckling kiss to the tip that arches his back as if he's been struck by a bolt of lightning. The way his eyelids fly open to stare, green sclera searing hot - he's trying to burn her alive and then eat her up - leaves her flush with power, bold.

As she withdraws, winking up at him flirtily, a thin line of sticky-clear precum dangles, connecting them for just a moment, before she licks her lips, snapping it.

“ _P_ - _princess_ ,” he whines, fisting his claws in her hair.

“Just let go, Chat. Let go – let go and let me have it, _please_.” Her own throaty whimper shocks her while she paws at his thighs. “Give it to me- just – just _piss_ on me, Kitty.”

Trembling, he bites down on his lip, eyes rolling back. “B-but...”

Her hand curls around his base, squeezing, his twitching shaft warm and smooth in her hand.

“Please. I want to feel you, Kitty. Want to feel it on my face – feel it everywhere.”

Another kiss to the head of his cock, tongue making a rough, slow sweep that slicks him with his precum, salty and sticky in her mouth, and for a moment she wants to just take all of him.

“ _Please_ piss on me, Chaton,” she begs to make him comfortable because – because she _can't_ want it. “I _need_ it.”

She angles him towards her face, and that tremble – he's given in!

Knowing what's coming and – and caring – wanting – fuck she _wants_ it and doesn't even understand why or how or how she never realized it before, she tries to shut her eyes, but can't - won't.

Will it – will it be warm as it soaks into her hair and drips and dribbles down her face? What will-

His hand curls around his semi-flaccid cock, twitching, tempting, and it's angled towards-

Warm.

Splattering.

Translucent faint-yellow.

On her face, dripping. Trailing on her breasts.

She gasps. The stream angles, a hot, pounding torrent like a shower as she shivers and her pussy clenches up so, so _hard_ and-

 _Fuck_ did she just _cum_?!

Her mouth blows wide into an 'o' and muscles in her cheeks and brow twitch, trying to force her eyes closed, but she can't – can't stop.

Has to see. The searing toxic green of his sclera burns her up, but those pupils are all adoration and longing-concern.

The stream angles again.

Her mouth is open.

Warm.

Now hard shaft bobbing with the strain, balls quivering as tension settles in the throbbing spot where his shaft and waxed-smooth balls meet, the stream is pinched off.

“Fuck, Mari, I'm so sorr-”

His cock is velvet soft and trembling with the pressure of holding back, hot and tempting and gorgeous in her hand, tip dripping with a bead of piss that's just on the verge of falling.

“ _Jesusdon'tstop_!” she screams, spitting out urine and saliva, drooling down her chin and dripping to the floor. She feels the thin traces of eyeliner smearing down her cheeks, and gunked-up blush melting and congealing in a filthy, disgusting mess.

Just. Like. _Her_.

“More!” It's not a plea or a command – it's not even coherent or intentional. It just _is_ , and it's enough as the shower of liquid starts again, erupting from Chat's cock as she's leaning into try to suckle up that glorious golden droplet of piss that was dangling from his urethra.

All the pained tension and self-loathing and uncertainty are washed away, his body uncoiling as he releases with the loudest sigh she's ever heard, as if he's just cum, and her tongue sticks out to -

Warm.

Flooding.

 _Overflowing_...

Acrid.

... _good_...

A snarl.

His claws are rough, digging deeply into her scalp – hold her in place, but don't because she's not going _anywhere_.

Soaked and still streaming, his cockhead angles down, spraying her breasts as she looks down at the splattering flecks.

A hand slams into her panties and she's fingering herself so hard she's nearly _screaming_.

Warm against her breasts, and she coughs and sputters piss, letting him go as the last jerking sprays pour over her small baby bump and the store in her mouth bursts out in a sputter that leaves her entire front soaked in his piss.

He's fucked a baby into her, bred her, claimed her, slathered her in piss.

Owned her, inside and out.

Good.

So _good!_

Her thumb is to her clit, working it furiously, two fingers buried deep and she wants it to be his cock.

Wants to feel warm and hot and full and leaking, not just with thick, sticky cum but with thin, pouring-

She watches, awed just like him, frozen, as the droplets and trails, tainted with little bubbling pockets of saliva, roll slowly down her heaving chest, splitting around her achingly erect nipples, and loll, torpid, over the rounded curve of – of their baby.

“Jesus, Marinette,” he says, breathless, reaching out a trembling hand to cup her shoulder.

The taste is still in her mouth, bitter and burning, making her feel filthy even as those warm green eyes – her kitty's; her husband's – tell her that she's beautiful.

Her panties snap back into place when she withdraws her hand, painful though it is, so that he can actually scoop her up and cart her over to the sink. As she nuzzles and kisses his chest, the tension in his shoulders breaks and bleeds away. It's gone completely when she smiles, taking the mouthwash that he pulls down from the top shelf that she can't reach.

He had wanted to speak, was too afraid to talk, and now realized nothing needed to be said.

She loves Luka, and adores Kagami.

But this?

This she could never have with anyone else.

Aching though she is, wet heat soaking her panties, she expects everything to be over – for them to clean up and trudge off to bed for cuddles now that Chat's gotten out all that- that ... ugly (?) instinct that must have transferred to her through their miraculous bond because this wasn't something that she wanted.

She doesn't _want_ to – to be treated like a slut and – and get _pissed_ on!

Everything is not over.

Adrien deposits her in the shower again, clearly intent on helping her clean off the remnants of his piss that bead up along her stomach and sink into all her crevices, leaving her cool and just starting to shiver with all the warmth gone. Before he can slip off her underwear, she realizes it.

She wants to be warm again, and there's only one crystalline-clear thought that pierces through her haze as they stand together in the shower.

A relaxing, steamy shower would banish the shivers.

But she has no desire to get clean.

Only now does she realize.

Her bladder is full. While she was tortured by his attentions and distracted caring for her kitty, the pressure built up and up to the point that it's cramping inside of her.

It bursts without her even thinking it; without her wanting it as she sags back against the tiled wall, and there's nothing in the world that can compare to the simply bliss of letting _go_.

Her clenching lips loose a thick torrent, soaking her panties and plastering the already half-translucent white fabric to her womanhood. It's filthy and disgusting and so pleasantly warm, the heat pooling and building up as she ... she _pisses_ herself.

“Jesus, Mari! You're- _fuck_ ,” he whimpers, pleading with his eyes and airy, breathless tone just as much as he had earlier and it- it's so good.

A mortified flush of horror and embarrassment bursts across her face and chest as she lets _go_ , streams flooding over her underwear and trailing down her thighs, cooling as they go. Droplets of thin yellow pee coalesce and trickle down to the tile floor. The wet fabric is clinging, the force of her stream of piss splattering, echoing.

 _Fuck_ it's warm, just like when he pissed on her chest, but it's sticking there. Staying there in her drenched pure white, yellowing panties as she lets it all out and it's like she's bathing in warm water.

She wants to close her eyes, but can't – can't stop staring at his face, eyes dilating, pupils blown wide.

He's hard – fucking rock-hard, burning red cock-tip dribbling precum as the shaft twitches, though he's stuck, frozen. God, how did she do that to him just by... wetting herself? Not even those moments when she, Luka, and Kagami alike cradle and praise him, using his mouth, ass, and cock all at once does he get as hard as he is now, staring at her soaking panties and licking his lips.

It's so very... filthy – beyond anything that she'd ever imagined and much as she wants to hate it...

He's on her immediately, even as she's still loosing the last lingering remnants of piss. Even now, his clawed hands are gentle, though the motion is desperate enough to leave her shivering, ass hiked into the air as he presses her down in the tub and peels the soaked panties halfway down her thighs before draping himself half over her back.

Hot and throbbing with need, he's between her legs, cock nestled to her folds. Those shivers, like those of a racehorse burning with adrenaline at the very end of a sprint, set his hands trembling next to her head, and it's power. There's power in how weak he is for her.

Muscles clench up to loose the last few streams of urine. Bliss and longing swirl together and mingle as she's nearly empty and _empty_ , all the tension and searing pain of fullness spilling out of her, and to get more of it – more of him while giving him what he wants too, she angles her hips while he frots against her, miming fucking her as his shaft slides along her drenched lower lips and she mewls and writhes while he teases her because ...

Because she's not done.

She's still _pissing_.

Hot urine wells up and cascades over his cock; she can almost see it trailing down his shaft, his smooth, shaved balls, and she knows in that moment that they have to do this again – no matter how weird, or sick, or .. filthy it makes them.

She likes being filthy.

She has to see – has to watch it. It doesn't matter if Luka and Kagami do it, or if it's a recording, but – but she wants – needs to see her kitty bathing in piss- getting all filthy, and marked-up, and owned, just like her.

Without warning, she's face-down in the tub, ass and slick pussy up in the air, giving Chat the right angle to sheath himself inside of her with the most painfully-brutal bone-jarring thrust she's ever felt and she yelps as she's stretched open.

He's searing hot, the leather somehow scalding slick and he falls on her back while she tries to thrust against him, flesh smacking, the sound slightly watery and suckling as they're still slick with each other's piss.

Each withdrawal leaves her clenching empty, face pressed to her forearms as she literally weeps with need that coils and coils in her belly but won't fucking _come_ because he keeps slipping out of her, she's so wet and he's so mindless in his desperation, snarling and hissing. Even though he slides the slick head of his cock against the wrong hole once or twice, there's still enough of her sweet kitty there to keep him from pressing forward.

Though the rest of him is not her sweet kitty and it's _amazing_ as he bites down on the thick flesh of her shoulder. Then, hand fisted in her hair, tugging at the roots, he wrenches her head backwards, forcing her to arch her back so that he can plunder her mouth almost viciously, fangs sharp against her lips as she mewls and whines and fucks herself on his cock.

Animalistic thrusts are poised to split her open while he allows her to slump forward again, whimpering. A trail of drool dribbles from her mouth as she pants and begs like a slut.

“Fuck, Adrien, _please_ – please harder!”

“Mine,” he growls.

“Yes!” She can barely make our her own words through the breathless scream. “Yours – all yours!”  
  
“Gonna – going to breed you again,” he puffs, hands to her hips and fangs to her throat. “That what you want? Me to fuck another baby into you?”

Oh.

God.

_Yes!_

“ _Fuck_ , you're tight!” Forcing her down all the way, he snarls as he bottoms out, the sloppy wetness of her pussy trailing down his balls as they press together, held in place as deep as he can go, filling her so that she can feel every twitch and shiver. “You like that? Like being a good cock-slut who gets bred over and over again?”

The stink of ammonia blooms in her nose when he forces her down all the way.

“Kitty, please! Cum- cum for me! Want to feel you breed me!” She's face-first in a small puddled remnant of their combined piss, chest heaving against the frigid tile that just brushes the swell of her belly as she supports herself on her forearms while her husband _uses_ her.

“Such a good girl – so sweet for me.” Pitiless humping thrusts drive her down, huffing breathes into the puddle splattering flecks of liquid against her brow and lips.

“Yes!” she screams, garbled, choking on her own breath, tasting - “I'll be good. Just fuck me!”  
  
“Good – good and _filthy_ for me?” he prods because he knows. He has to see it in her face, the blissed-out shivers and tight-clenched eyes and wide-parted lips. She - she-

“A- a fucking _piss-slut_?!”  
  
_Fuck_ she wants to be a piss-slut- wants Luka and Kagami and Alya and Nino to watch them, disgusted and loving it, and then piss all over them again and again as they fuck.

And that's enough as she cums, biting down on her forearm and convulsing, clenching around him, and she wants to feel him, warm and filling and sloppy inside of her, but he tugs free at the last moment so that only one thick spurt floods her.

Twisting to look back at him, she watches the intense, almost instantaneous crumbling of his resolve as he continues to finish, one jet splattering cum against her pussy lips, warm and oozing down to drop to the floor in globs, before he grabs himself in one hand, the other steadying his shaking body, and angles his twitching cock to paint thick lines of ropy white semen across her ass and lower back. It flows and trails, sticky against her flushed skin, dripping down her sides and thighs while mingling with the remains of his piss.

Spent, they collapse into a heap into the soiled tile of their shower floor, heaving and cuddling, heedless of the terrible mess as Adrien kisses her so sweetly that it makes her feel clean. The blazing sunshine of him as he nuzzles her face wipes away even the smallest vestige of ugliness or shame that might threaten to boil up; he doesn't mind – he enjoys kissing her even though she's soiled.

And holy _crap_ are they both soiled!

A shower is very much in order, and then a conversation about the weird transferred cat-instincts. It must have something to do with the connection between the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous, imprinting his desires on her.

Eventually, Adrien hauls her to her feet mumbles his transformation phrase while she turns on the faucet, standing aside to escape the initial blast of chilly water.

Then, the unholy scream of a daemon has them both flinching, pressed up to the wall as Adrien half-covers her with his body as to shield her.

“What the hell do you think you're _doing_?!” Plagg squawks as he floats in the middle of the room, trembling and clawing at his arms and head as if he's infested with fleas.

“Hey, this whole thing is your fault!” Adrien retorts while trying to conceal them both with the shower curtain. “Do something about the weird cat ... territory marking instincts if you don't want this to happen again.”

Plagg is vibrating with rage, as if he's about to start spewing green fire.

Some say the world will end in fire, others ice, but from what Marinette had tasted of desire, it might actually end in piss if they're not careful and Plagg has his way...

His nubby hand jerks out at them as if he's fingering them for a crime. “Oh no! You don't get to blame me for your weird... _sex_ stuff! This isn't on me!”  
  
“It's not?” Adrien swallows, looking down to the lingering trails and slick of yellow moisture that cling to his cock and thighs.

“No you.- you sick _freaks_!” Plagg beats time against his skull, screeching in horror as he takes off to start up a bath in the sink before trying, with all his feeble strength, to pull out the bleach from the cabinet beside the toilet.

“If you _ever_ do this again-” He glares back at them over his shoulder, withering Marinette with his expression of utter disgust while his hands fly to the side, miming something akin to the explosion of the planet Alderan, “ _Boom!_ End of the world, I swear to sweet Cheesus! _Fuck_ , I'll never get clean again!”

As it turned out, no cat instincts were involved. Both Marinette and Adrien just had massive piss kinks.

And while they didn't share that particular fetish, Luka and Kagami did have a thing for degradation, so through solid communication, compromise, and love, everything worked out in the end.

Except for the fact that Plagg did end up getting at the bleach... regularly, phasing right into it, and, thus, Chat Blanc replaced Chat Noir.

So much the better, in the end, his teammates decided.

White was so much easier to sully and soil than black.

**Author's Note:**

> Gold on her head, and gold on her feet  
> And gold where the hems of her kirtle meet  
> And a golden girdle round my sweet  
> Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.  
> \- William Morris


End file.
